


you looked at me as if I was a freak (but you said you like freaky people)

by Hazzafagga



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction
Genre: Barbara Palvin (mentioned) - Freeform, Bisexuality, Body Dysmorphia, Bruising, Harry Styles - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, Self Harm, Social Anxiety, Tinder, Trigger Warnings, auxiliary magazine, dazed magazine, larry stylinson - Freeform, vogue magazine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 04:19:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8148898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazzafagga/pseuds/Hazzafagga
Summary: one where harry matches to louis on tinder and meeting can make or break everything including his anxiety





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> H&L receipts are in pt 2 if ur into that (there is no distinction between the messages but all messages are in bold text). tinder profiles are fictional and are not associated with real life people. title is a lyric by soko "I thought I was an alien"
> 
> song & artist references:
> 
> system of a down - "chop suey"  
> "toxicity"  
> the smiths - "I know it's over"  
> soko - "temporary mood swings" "I thought I was an alien"  
> frankie cosmos  
> the beach boys

* * *

He didn't like dating sites. He didn't like talking to people he didn't know and couldn't handle so much as standing beside a stranger for two minutes at a time. However his social awkwardness and suffering of severe body dysmorphia, he'd lie to himself and claim that he was, in fact, a people person when in actuality found it difficult to speak without covering up his face or slouching or turning the opposite way for distractions to dismiss him from conversations. It was no secret to him or anyone who knew of his tactics that he survived best in isolation within the comfort of his own home. Although this was an evident factor of his lifestyle, what he did not usually disclose was that he longed to be different.

Harry was always a bashful boy. In all of his childhood, he struggled to overcome his fear of being left out, or athazagoraphobia, then entering adulthood he stepped out of the worry. He was no longer afraid of neglect. Harry embraced the inevitability of getting hurt by his friends and relatives at some point. But having an introverted personality shouldn't suggest that he wasn't capable of wishing for confidence. He wished for it endlessly.

There was no true reason as to why Harry let his sister create him a Tinder profile. He didn't like the idea of throwing himself out into the dating world head first and was certainly appalled by the entire notion of the site. As far as he understood, it was a site to match people not on common interests, but on looks. Harry did not like that idea at all. It invited shallow minds into his life, messing up his ferociously set schedule and trained thoughts. With the thought of soon being consumed in self-consciousness triggered by people he didn't know but judged him based off of his ears and nose and deepening worry line between his brows that would be permanently there by the time he'd turn thirty made his stomach flip over and over again.

He held his phone in his hands, squeezing tightly as he read his profile description.

 **Harry, 22  
** Most likely won't begin a conversation so feel free to say hi and chat me up :)  
Ask me about cats, architecture, fashion and music, but bring up hunting or animal cruelty, I will block.

 

It didn't sound like him, but there was no better way to put him. He fought the urge to delete the bits that made him seem cheeky and feisty for perhaps his sister knew what she was doing. Of course she must have known the dating game much better than Harry could. He, for one, had no littlest clue.

Though he hated that Gemma had already set the boy's standards. She'd explained how to use the app and instructed him to "play" at 10:30 and no later. It was 10:26pm when Harry had finished his nightly routine, nothing left to do but what his sister asked of him, though if anyone else were to have asked, Harry gave himself the push, not Gemma.

He started off by making sure his requirements were set realistically which they weren't, but he didn't alter them. There was also going through his profile photos and not wanting any of them up there, but he wouldn't remove a single one. He had to trust Gemma. She knew what she was doing.

At 10:29 Harry was alarmed by a notification claiming that he'd been matched.

He frowned at the screen and at the face it'd said he matched with. He hadn't played the dating game yet, so it did startle him.

Harry rang his sister to complain that she'd already begun his "swiping." He figured that of all people, she would understand how horribly Harry took such news, yet she also understood that he was horribly insecure and needed the confidence boost.

So he hung up the phone and made his first, though not first, swipe. He swiped and swiped like he was running for his life - like everyone was chasing him and having a laugh. He was hardly sure that he even took into consideration their profiles, let alone their faces, and so realising this, he slowed down to examine these people.

 **Amanda, 20**  
Artist that loves alcohol, cute guys and a bit of fun.

She was pretty and her art was lovely, Harry thought, but he was taken aback by her love of alcohol, so he swiped. It didn't take long for him to recognise the "X" button which was much more efficient than the swiping function.

And then Harry saw that he'd been "super liked." It was by a man that was much older than he was that fancied him enough to announce his fondness for him, but because the man seemed to have children and was the same age as his father, he decided to guiltily swipe.

This went on into the later night before Harry tucked his phone under his pillow.

The next morning he'd entirely forgotten to check his phone. He'd forgotten about it altogether, so when Gemma rang him to press for his Tinder updates, it hit him. He filled her in on the persons that impacted him a bit and then hung up to anxiously peek at his profile.

Awaiting him were a few "super likes" that he hadn't expected, two matches (a Lesley and an Aaron) which his sister had ignited and a message from one of them. _Hey cutie_ , it read, making Harry's heart stop for a second. But remembering how he was not into direct flirting, he said goodbye to Lesley and went to work.

Harry was a fashion stylist. There was nothing else he wanted to do. He did like to sing, but how far fetched was it to pursue music and successfully take off in the industry? Even if fate were on his side, he'd end up ruining his chances by refusing to go out in public or meet other artists and producers due to his "bubble" that was not inclusive of anyone but his friends and family. This is why he loved fashion. When he designed and styled, he did so for himself and that is why fashion loved him back. He didn't need to pretend or hide behind pseudo personas just so the people he worked with wouldn't shun him during lunch hour. When he styled, the world liked to know. It was the only time in Harry's life where it seemed people struggled to speak to _him_.

"Harry, mate, come here a second."

Setting down his sketch, he left his wee desk and crouched down to get a look at his partner's photos.

"Belt," said Kacey. "Green or purple?"

Harry didn't need to think twice. "Green."

"Have you finished your design?"

"I'm sketching it out now."

"When will it be ready?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Show me as soon as possible, yeah? Ana Laura's ready when you are."

Ana Laura was Harry's co-manufacturer. She was a beguiling girl with big, frizzy hair who knew near the most about manufacturing, but was more or less Harry's assistant. In regards of who was in charge in their exclusive group of fashionistas, Pete (Kacey) Martinez was on top just above Harry, shortly following Ana Laura Rodriquez and her sister-like best friend Heather Luther, then Maxwell Raine who ran their website, booked studios and made contacts. They were the big team at _Big Cry Baby_ that had just reached a breakthrough into the idealistic, sublime fashion world.

At the start of lunch, one could count on Harry to stick to his laptop like glue with a cup of coffee and carrots with ranch if he was that hungry, but on this particular afternoon, he climbed into his car to pickup some food. Only that is what he told Kacey. What Harry did once arriving at a Burger King was sit in the driver seat soaking up the new faces on Tinder.

There was a man called Matthew and another man called Geoff who were rather handsome, but he swiped them. A lady with freckles he thought too sweet-looking to ignore earned his first real "like." No one else, unfortunately, met his standards that were subconsciously set, so with that he nervously ordered for two and returned to his flat.

"How are you at Tinder?"

"I'm not sure." Harry scratched his chin, eyes fixed on the website for _Vogue_. "I matched with another girl."

"She fit?"

"Yeah."

"Have you started chatting to her?"

"Yeah."

The line went silent for a moment.

"What about sexting?"

"Yeah."

"You're not listening!" Gemma exclaimed through the phone, jolting Harry from his fixation. "I've rang you because I want to talk to you, not so you can ignore everything I'm saying. I'd see my boss for that."

"I'm sorry, I'm just..." Harry indulgently scrolled into a classic black and white photo shoot featuring Barbara Palvin, heart thumping harder for her button-down than her astounding beauty. "I-It's work, you know? I'm--"

"I know what you do. When's your next release?"

"After Max updates. He's gotten us a shot with this real nice guy who works for a merchandiser. It could be huge, yeah? We're shooting on Tuesday."

"Are you still using the same model?"

"Yeah, we've got another one though."

"Model it yourself," his sister proudly suggested. "They're your clothes; you should wear them."

"Right." He couldn't help but laugh, the retro makeup on Barbara's face widening his smile even more. "And afterwards I'll quit my job, move to London and model for _Dazed_."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It is if you're not a model. I'm not a model, all right? I'm a designer, stylist, photographer and manufacturer. _That's it_."

"You could be so much more..."

"I don't want to be any more than I am!" Harry leaned back in his chair, pivoting the two rear legs at an angle so he could properly look at the ceiling. "It's fine the way it is," he declared. "I enjoy living with my mates, I like being self-employed. I don't want any changes-- It's all right the way it is, so please leave it. _Please_."

The conversation ended soon with mumbled goodbyes and the sound of Harry's head hitting the desk.

The boy wasn't keen on self-harm, but he did hurt himself emotionally. He'd relentlessly call his face ugly and ears too big and nose too pointy and label the worry line between his eyebrows as the most horrid thing to ever happen to a human being. On occasion he would accidentally say these things aloud and be bombarded by lies like "You're perfect" and "You should be proud of the way you look" when he was indeed a grave distance from attractive to anyone's standards. His falling underneath the so-called "self-harm" umbrella was due to the fact that he pulled out his body hair. He didn't mean to do it, but it was important to him to relieve stress in stressful situations. He also indulgently threw himself into walls, tables and other large furniture to calm himself down. No one knew this, but he found great relaxation in diminishing his frustration by inflicting punishments on himself rather than the ones he loved.

With his forehead on the desktop, undeniably forming a bruise, he grabbed his phone and went on Tinder.

 **Nathan, 27**  
I like cycling through decades of music and films and getting to know people.  
6'4" let's chat

 **Ramona, 19**  
Currently raising a bird and four rat babies so if you're into that and 40's fashion, try and wow me

 **Zoe, 22**  
Piano, synth, clarinet, guitar, ukulele, violin.  
I love music and fashion and sick films so if you wanna chat about it hmu Ⓥ  
Lick it up, baby, lick it up ;)  
(if you haven't seen heathers then fuck off)

They all sounded lovely. If someone out there enjoyed fashion, music and animals as much as he did, then there may just be room in his complicatedly prioritised life for a platonic relationship. But that was a naïve little boy biting off way more than he could chew. Liking someone's profile a second time since not being matched to the first was harder than it seemed.

Once Saturday crept upon him, Harry was answering a phone call at 7:00am from an intern working under a popular alternative company. Pacing the room and crying into his pillow he absolutely refused to let go of was candy apples compared to accepting the call and speaking to the woman as professionally as he could. His chest felt tight, his knees turning to wobbly mush into just three seconds of listening to her wonder if _Big Cry Baby_ would be interested in a collaboration. There was no telling what he'd do under the pressure.

But Harry breathed through the pain of socialising and closed one of the biggest deals they had in weeks.

Family dinners in Holmes Chapel were always friendly. Family dinner at the Styles residence was not.

The four of them sat at a small, ancient dining table for minutes at a time in utter silence, whereas the several sighs, tense glances every which way and food slushing about their mouths happened to be the exception to total quietness. Harry had just been reminded to take his Niravam whilst he was visiting, though he hadn't needed medication in months.

He picked at his food, looking his mother dead in the face. "Where's Nina?" Harry wondered.

Anne dropped her arm like he'd just told her something awful. "Sweetheart, she's dead."

"Sorry..?"

"I've already mentioned that to you; don't you remember?"

"You haven't told me that."

"I have--"

"No, you haven't," Gemma stated, feeling so obliged to speak she'd speak with her mouth full. "I was there when you texted everyone about it, but you did forget to ring him. I would've done it, but you kept saying you wanted to tell him in person, so I suppose you've chose to do it now."

"Oh. Well, she's passed away, love."

The table was silent again.

"How's work for you?" Harry's stepfather asked. "Haven't filled us in in a while."

"It's good."

Gemma shoved a clump of turkey in her mouth and spooned up a bit on beans. "He's got a collaboration with this really cool independent company. They started underground like Harry and them, but they've become quite popular on social media. Harry's sorted the meet himself."

"That's brilliant, mate. How you feeling about it?"

Harry looked down, suddenly welcomed by the cold, gruesome news of his cat's death that must had been caused by her poor kidneys, tears welling in his eyes which grew harder to keep back the longer his family stared at him. The sadness and the guilt was excruciating. "I'm buzzing," he lied.

 **Hope, 18**  
lil trans boy (he/him)  
I love dogs, 80s music  & sweet clothes  
I do portrait & fashion photo shoots but most of my photos get stolen on ig :')

Now this boy sounded promising. Harry definitely would not find himself messaging the kid, but if he somehow had the nerve, he'd press the "like" button and inquire Hope's taste in fashion and photography. If he turned out to show any talent in what he did, Harry would attempt to bring the boy down to further his experience and to take some photos of _Big Cry Baby_ 's current work. It was an idea to give a friend who said, "A penny for your thoughts," for it was only a thought. No matter how sweet or compelling or charming one of these people were, real life people aside as that was an absurdity on its own, Harry could not and would not ever "like" any of them.

He felt sorry for his sister who had taken the hours, days, months and years to break him free of his thick shell of thin skin. He had known and so had she that when the term "online dating" came up in one of their phone calls, they'd see Harry run for the hills. It was not appealing to him. It was a terrible, manipulative place full of poison of the mouth and Harry wished not to have part.

During nighttime as he was getting into bed, slipping beneath his childhood duvets and swallowing the pill and water his mum put out for him, he worried that he may not wake up. If perhaps his mother had forgotten that he was instructed to take his medication during the day only, he might have been able to forgive her, but since this accident had already happened once, he forced himself to stay awake another hour or so.

There was nothing else to expel the boring minutes.

 

 **Louis, 24**  
hmu if u fancy ugly ppl

Harry sat up and pushed his hair out of his face.

This man looked funny. It wasn't "he looks funny" in a rude way - he looked like he did funny things. His first photo was a tragically generated 3DS Mii avatar with quite a handsome primary photo beside it, and the comparison made Harry laugh. The rest of the picture consisted of him with friends and/or alcoholic beverages and cigarettes. Harry was aware that he himself had a photo with a cigarette in his own mouth, but he hadn't truly smoked it. It was a put out cigarette end from Max to complete the wardrobe for their photo shoot a few weeks prior; the one and only time Harry ever modeled because their initial of-age teenager Dan cancelled with sincere apologies the very day of, and since Harry was the youngest-looking lad who could fit his long body into the clothes and thankfully work for free, he was stuck standing in front of a camera praying he didn't look as silly as he felt. This man did probably, however, smoke and drink both recreationally and privately. Harry didn't much care for that.

But in the imagined conclusion that Louis didn't destroy his body on a regular basis, it'd push him up on the "reasonable people to pursue" scale a significant amount. If he wasn't addicted to cigarettes or alcohol to any degree, Harry just might have found him and his humour appealing.

So there he was, conjuring excuses to "like" this boy. It didn't need to matter that he smoked or drank, did it? Harry knew better than to judge people. But with being socially unequipped, there was feeling as though he wasn't good enough for people he wasn't entirely forced to interact with. He hadn't the head space to make friends or so much as talk to anyone, let alone text cute boys.

So one could assume Harry's panic when he pressed "super like" rather than the normal "like" by mistake and his childish fret when he was immediately alerted with a match.

"Oh, no..." Harry gasped, scrunching his hair in his fists. "No, no, no, no. _Shit_."

Quickly tiptoeing down the corridor bare in his pants, the boy intruded into his sister's room, shoving his phone screen in her face.

She dropped all things she was doing to wonder what exactly her younger brother needed. "Ooh, who's he?" Gemma beamed, intriguingly snatching the mobile. "Louis. Says he's twenty-four. Wait, is it like 'Lewis' or 'Louie'?"

"I don't-- Um... I'm not sure."

She handed the phone back to him. "He's fit. Message him."

" _No_ ," Harry hissed. "I wouldn't even know what to say. And my bio clearly states that I won't message first, so he should start."

"It'd still be unlikely you'd chat to him."

"What do I do?"

"Well," the girl began, inviting Harry to sit with her on the bed, "you can be cheeky and tell him something about that stupid DS pic. Just be like, 'Wow, I like your Mii character, but it's not as cute as you.'"

"I _am_ _not_ going to be cheeky."

"You're a natural flirt, Harry. You might not think so, but you are. Just be yourself."

"But myself is so embarrassing!" He hid his face in his hands, curling up in a tight, frightful ball at Gemma's side. "I hate myself," he mumbled. "I want to be able to talk to people, but it's so _hard_. And this guy's the first person I did a 'super like' and it was a bloody accident! He thinks I'm stupid."

"He doesn't think you're stupid. He obviously finds you cute and interesting."

"I'm so ugly."

Profoundly contrite was he when he said such things about himself in the presence of his dearest friends. The regret for pushing away others' positivity meant just for his self esteem felt much like being internally stoned. Although Harry had yet been victimised by angry rocks, he strongly figured how it hurt. That's how his heart felt when he'd acknowledge and address his total homeliness out loud.

The very second Harry was back in his own room, he quietly shut the door, sat to his bed and started to bang the back of his heels against the hard wood.

On Sunday morning, the sun was smiling down at the Styles house, its glow glistening straight past Harry's curtains to say hi. But Harry just wasn't having it.

His face was sore from crying. He didn't cry very long, but he used up enough tears for one night. Harry checked his phone and read texts from Kacey, Max and Ana Laura that were wishing his mother a happy birthday, thanking them because they certainly didn't have to go out of their ways during work - didn't even have to remember her birthday - but he was grateful.

Harry had himself a shower and put on his Sunday clothes (a light blue floral button-down, black jeans, a pink belt with a gold buckle and boots to match. He didn't want to wear one, but since it was November he threw on his mum's auburn coat and borrowed her diamond earrings.) and helped sort Gemma's outfit, later crying again once remembering that he wouldn't see his sweet Nina in the morning anymore.

The family had gone to church, a little place Harry hadn't been to a long while, then feeling attacked by the Lord's followers with wretched homophobia disguised as perfect acceptance. Perhaps the citizens at his church welcomed homosexuals with open arms, but those who practiced this religion along with many others who harassed people inside Harry's community didn't sit right with him. Hardly anything sat right when it came to Harry, a bisexual Catholic, but homophobia did not especially.

Afterwards, and after he got stopped in a H&M to be told how handsome he was, Harry began to limp from the pain of his bruised heels. Explaining to his sister why he was hurt, Gemma took his phone and sent Louis, 24 a message.

To get his mind off the disturbing theories stemmed from insecurities, he held his mother's hand that wasn't being held by her husband and let Gemma trail behind him on his coat as the lot ventured the shops. They'd go home for a nap and then get dressed in evening clothes to go to Anne's favourite restaurant where they would give her presents and share a small dessert. Harry's contribution was a lovely necklace that matched the earrings his stepfather bought. He sat diagonal to Gemma and across to his mum, squeezed his knees whenever their waitress talked to him, trying so unbelievably hard to fight the urge to shield his face.

He must had been stupid to think Louis, 24 would message him back. Someone funny enough, happy enough, self-assured enough to use an ugly 3DS Mii as his profile picture wouldn't ever message someone whose sister felt a duty to create a Tinder account for. Someone like Louis wouldn't want to have anything to do with someone like Harry. Harry was shy and weird and awkward socially and facially. He wouldn't have been found attractive to a blind person.

"Your phone vibrated before," Gemma said as she took Harry's and the others' mobiles out of her purse.

The boy unlocked his phone. His eyes went wide. "Gem?"

"What?"

"He messaged me back."

The two of the children scooted close together in the backseat of the car, giggling and flailing about how to put Harry's response. In the leather chairs, the brief conversation with Louis, 24 went this way:

**I like your mii character**

**lol thanks it's ugly**

**The mouth is literally on your chin but the eyes are accurate**

**yep they take up half my head irl**

**Cool mine do too**

**I can make one for u  
just gotta nick my sisters ds**

Gemma laughed at that, but Harry didn't think it remotely funny. _Don't steal it_ , he sent to him, hardly ashamed or nervous for the reply:

**fine I'll ask**

**Good**

For the rest of the drive there were no more messages. It had gone from light back/forward chatting to nothing. After a tiny handful of minutes, Harry grew paranoid. He figured Louis was asking his sister for her DS and creating him a Mii like he said he would, yet the manipulative voice in the back of Harry's head told him otherwise. He doesn't want to talk to you anymore, his mind said, and it wasn't in the least surprising that Harry was so quick to believe it.

Reentering the dreadful night at his parents' house, Harry sat beside his mother on the couch with Gemma at his feet, a bowl of popcorn in his lap and a scary movie in his face. One thing that Harry loved that wasn't old fashioned clothes, music, architecture and cute cats was scary movies. It was yet another subject to the list of things that took him out of his sad body for a while.

The film, though, couldn't keep him strapped down for long, for Louis, 24 was more entertaining.

**it's in my pics**

Harry laughed out loud when he saw his Mii and showed it to Gemma, letting her message back to test their stranger's sense of humour.

**Yeah that's horrible**

*****accurate**

**It gave me slits for eyes and my hair doesn't even spilt down the middle**

**so ?? my hair isn't cut into triangles  
wish it was tho**

**Do it**

**no**

"Funny," the girl whispered, handing the phone back to an urgent Harry. "He'll like you; just act normal."

"What's normal?"

"You know how to be normal, idiot. He's into banter, so go with what's already said."

"He'll know it's different."

"He won't, trust me."

Anne leaned into the lad's neck, peering over his shoulder. "Can I see?"

Harry showed her the profile.

"He's cute! Cute French name. Ask if he's French."

"I doubt he is," said Gemma. "He lives in England."

"Oh. Well, you never know."

She was right. Louis could have been from anywhere. He could have been anything that took someone off guard and Harry would have never known unless he asked. But Harry simply wouldn't ask. Harry didn't ask questions besides "How are you?" though even in those uncomfortable times he was reluctant to have manners.

At Tinder after the movie, a pint of Ben & Jerry's between his dark, bruised knees, Harry sat on the kitchen floor in Dad's old American bowling jersey and a yellow pair of fuzzy socks.

It was rare to him to eat his feelings. Harry was a healthy young man - always watched his intake, stayed as toned as he felt necessary - though only exercised in his bubble using the flat's own gym equipment, but regardless he enjoyed being athletic. He did not exactly keep from sugary things like ice cream. He punished himself by not having it. Moreover, he felt good this night and he wanted something sweet to match his emotions currently.

Chatting to Louis, 24 became easier. Despite Gemma continuously giving her brother advice on what to say and how to say it, he had fun speaking to the boy. He had fun explaining that, no, he did not smoke cigarettes although his profile photo begged to differ, even if it made him timid. Giving a reason as to why he'd cut his hair took a small bit of weight off his shoulder, too (he didn't actually give the real reason as he'd never disclose the fact) as well as getting entirely drooled over because he'd told Louis that he had modeled once.

And Louis was just as funny as Gemma assumed. He indeed was full of banter which Harry pleasantly picked up. There wasn't anything Harry sent that didn't get attacked in the most playful way and it was lovely. He told Harry things that made him laugh, blush and cover his mouth to hide his crooked smile without feeling drowned in flirtatious moves.

Harry wanted to know what Louis was doing. _Jammin to system of a down tbh_ , Louis replied, and so Harry said:

 

**What's your favourite song?**

**by them ?**

**Yeah**

**probably chop suey bc I'm lame**

**That song's good though**

**obviously**

**You are so mean**

**:)  
what's ur fav song**

**In general it's probably I Know It's Over by the Smiths, but by system of a down it's Toxicity**

**ur more basic than I am**

**Yeah not really?**

The back/forwardness washed away again soon. He sat on the cold tile floor for much past an hour - an hour that made his spine and bum ache - very full on vegan ice cream. The justification for pretending to be someone he wasn't was also washing away. Harry was upset with himself.

The boy rose to his sore feet and carefully placed his fork in the sink and his ice cream tub in the rubbish, waddling up the stairs to his room where he lodged his body in bed. The magazine cutouts and clothes hung up on his wall gave him teeny, pinch-sized ideas for his next creations, but he wanted to throw those ideas away. He didn't feel imaginative somehow, so he visited his Instagram page for direction. It was as if he'd almost forgotten what his taste was, but that did happen a lot.

As he became sleepy his phone vibrated.

**ur quite funny just so u know**

Harry's face planted the largest grin, his stomach doing twirls and his feet excitedly kicking the air before he shoved himself under the duvet.

**Thanks I didn't know that**

**if ur being sarcastic then bye**

**K bye**

**!!!!!!!!**

The next day Harry went home. He went home to Max, Kacey and Ana Laura who had done most of the work with finalising his clothes and finishing the shipments. It was needless to say that Harry missed having authority of his own sentiments. And the lot were glad to have him back.

In the corner at his desk again, Harry compulsively thumbed the laptop mousepad for digital clippings to drop into his "Honey Inspo" folder, the stereo blaring his good mood playlist. It was currently up to _Temporary Mood Swings_ and there was still no sign of leverage in _Auxiliary_ magazine, but he had slightly expected that.

"Which ones?" Kacey asked, dangling a red and gold polkadot sock and a deep orange sock in his doorway.

Harry looked him up and down. "What shoes?"

"Blue Chucks."

"Orange. Where are you going?"

"Survey. Come if you want."

He did think about it. Harry had truly considered taking up the man's offer and face his fear of willed interaction, but it seemed he might puke if someone were to so much as look in his direction. He trusted Kacey like no other friend - almost as heavily as he trusted his sister, but that wasn't enough. If Harry had had Gemma by his side, he'd definitely been keeping his head down, though eyes fixed to the ground sounded a whole lot more acceptable than slouching and ducking behind his phone when asked what the survey was about.

 _Hey_ , Harry said to Louis, 24. He waited a few moments until getting fed up with his inability to behave the slightest bit normal and poured himself coffee and shuffled through the fridge for carrots.

**u have no right**

He was confused, but figured it was just the boy's idea of a hello.

**Sorry I fell asleep**

**it was 2:30**

**That's late**

**how**

**What time did you go to sleep**

**6**

**LMAO**

They spoke about how Louis' job made him want to flip a table, which was understandable because Harry had had his fair share of frustrating jobs. Louis said that his manager whom he'd described with scathing words was making him come in on his day off and he claimed he could just "smack her" about it. Harry didn't take a liking to that albeit simply talk. _Don't smack her she's a fragile woman_ , he'd say, then Louis would call him a "feminazi" and subsequently not apologise. Evidently Harry took offense to statements alike what Louis made; statements that were not at all true and spoken in spite of himself. Needless to say, Louis hurt his feelings and they'd cut contact for days.

Harry didn't know what to do with himself anymore. If he wasn't being babied by his family or gathering aesthetic inspiration or getting bothered by humiliating things he said or talking to Louis, someone who influenced him so naturally it was unfair, then his mind knew nothing else but to go blank.

The first day, Harry dragged his burdened body out of bed by rolling onto the floor and hitting his hand on the shoe shelf. Unaware, or even uncaring, that his fall broke a vessel, the back of his wrist swelling greens and blues. Although leaving his room looked to be the biggest challenge of a lifetime, showing up at his collaborated photo shoot was, in fact, a bigger deal not only to him, but to the boys he lived with and friends with faith in him: a 22-year-old that could hardly dress himself at times.

However, and Harry had great pride in this, he needed to change.

"Where's Sara?" the photographer, Jordan, inquired. "Can I get her here, please?"

Four holes wasn't working. Harry had begged Sara not to do this again, but there they were trying to squeeze her waist into an outfit that'd fit her perfectly two days prior because she didn't like salad. The two both knew what was holding up their tasks, but Harry didn't have the heart to say it.

"Hey," Heather muttered, sticking her head into the back curtain. "He's really wanting you now. Is there a wardrobe malfunction?"

"No," the two said in unison.

"I did order two more belts for this exact reason." She looked at the model scornfully. "They're over there."

Sara's eyes widened in horror, her black lips parting to say curses she wouldn't say. "I'm not wearing a bigger belt!" the girl exclaimed. "I'm the same size-- I'm not wearing it."

"Today you are. And, Harry?"

He gently ripped the belt out of the loops of Sara's trousers. "Yes?"

"Are you modeling?"

"Why..?"

"Sorry, Jordan wants to know. He thinks you'd really sell it."

"Well... W-What's wrong with Dan?"

"Nothing," she explained, her pale face forming a bright, coy blush. "Jordan would like singles of you, then a few group shots. He says it'd be nice to see more guys than girls, that people are scared to see that. It'd be rad."

Harry knew nothing else to say but no. It was as if no one heard him when "I'm not a model" came up in chats about photography and clothes and Harry's talents and contributions to their team. The answer was always, unchangeably, no. The job embarrassed him - made him anxious to put it mildly. On this day particularly, throwing up seemed fairly likely.

On Wednesday Harry didn't leave his room. He stayed glued to the computer as per usual, a serving of coffee in his hand at all times despite the stained mugs littering his work space already. His eyes burned from lack of sleep and his head pounded in rhythms steady enough to cue a frontman. The flat's walls screamed in agony of his "good mood" music like Frankie Cosmos and The Beach Boys; even as he used the toilet he'd merely turn up the volume as opposed to pausing. His bed wore his clothes and his body wore his sheets. Things, in some way, didn't seem right.

Until he got a message on Tinder late at night, Harry refused to visit the app entirely.

**u still mad**

Temptation sought Harry to nibble on his toes. Do or don't ignore Louis, 24?: a dangerously demanding question. It unfortunately scorched his skin to reply _No_.

The headache dissolved unknowingly as Louis said:

**I've been hating myself this entire time I feel like such a dick**

The frown on his bitten lips was immediate. Of course Harry felt bad for making Louis feel bad for making _him_ feel bad, but it was all a grand circle that was not in the least amazing. Harry didn't think that he deserved sympathy, which was supposed in the smallest proud way. He was anything but proud (instead ashamed, repentant, passive) and identified with mistreatment. He knew absolutely nothing else.

Nevertheless he encouraged himself to forgive the man even if his apology was no apology at all.

It was completely safe assuming that he got on with Louis. Forgetting how they disagreed on some things was easy when they agreed on most others. Louis worked at PetPlanet and Harry really admired that. He also admired his fondness for fish and dogs though Harry was a cat person, finding that, yes, fish were very pretty and majestic and required more recognition.

Many messages later, Harry gave the elder boy his social media accounts. It wasn't a secret that he didn't like taking photos of himself, but there were a handful of posts on his Instagram of him in the backgrounds or smiling next to his mum. It did make him upset and flush with embarrassment, but Louis complimented him on his looks and refreshingly outdated fashion sense to no expense. It made him angry that he couldn't take the compliment well.

  
Regardless of the way Louis made him feel, they explored each other's minds on Instagram, Snapchat and Twitter, both insulting Tumblr and Louis mocking the fact that Harry had Facebook, and teased their handles (@pinapplepop and @loucifer). Harry wanted to be his truly silly self so he refused to follow Louis back on anything until the next day when the elder boy asked him to. But before that day, yet after consulting with his sister, Harry gave Louis his number and signed the message with his first kiss. It was unnecessary, but Harry found himself squealing when Louis sent one back.

 **@Pinapplepop:** You're honestly quite funny but not sure if I should meet you or run away

Having forgotten Louis followed him on Twitter, Harry pulled out his arm hair once the boy mentioned his tweet.

Nonetheless it initiated a discussion about meeting. By the time Saturday rolled round, they had agreed to meet on Sunday at 12:30pm at Harry's flat in Holmes Chapel. Whether his friends knew it or not, Harry was suddenly lightheaded realising his first real Tinder crush was coming to his home in eleven hours just to see him. Nausea ensued.

Later that morning, for he had fallen asleep at two o'clock, the boy trudged out of his room with a tear-stained face and a mental rash.

"Aw!" Ana Laura exclaimed as Harry entered the kitchen. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"You can tell me."

Harry shook his head, reaching into the cupboard for his yellow teacup.

"Fine. But don't come crying to me when you regret not talking about it." She turned for the doorway, but stopped. "No," Ana Laura decided. "Actually, do come crying. I love to help you."

"I'm okay. I just..."

The girl leaned in with enthrallment, hanging by the edge of the wall.

"Um... Someone... Uh, this guy is coming over today at 12:30. Louis. Well, I'm not really sure how to pronounce it, I'm just saying it how I know it. So maybe, if you want, you can hangout with us. Like go to Red or something. You can bring Heather if you want."

"Oh, no, I can't," she said disappointedly. "Me and Heather are going to the zoo. I'm sorry."

Harry nodded and peered down at his empty cup. "Yeah, it's cool."

"Why don't you ask Kacey?"

"No, I'll probably just... hide or something."

Harry didn't hide. He couldn't just hide in his closet and ignore Louis' texts because he was scared. He couldn't be a child. No wonder why everyone wanted to make him the face of _Big Cry Baby_.

"I hear you've a bloke coming over," Max said, plopping his entire 86 kilo self on the sofa and handed Harry a tiny bowl of Frosties. "What's the 411?"

"Tinder," Harry said blankly. "He's called Louis. He's twenty-four and works at PetPlanet."

"That's cool. How long you been chattin'?"

"A week."

"Sweet, man. Is he cute?"

"Uh..." Harry nearly smashed his face in his cereal in order to make himself stop blushing like a little girl. "Yeah. I mean, he's okay."

"L-O-L," Max chuckled, holding onto his spoon with a tooth so he could properly scratch his belly. "So you thinks he's cute, that's cool. How long you hangin' out?"

"I don't know. A few hours, I guess."

Marinating in the slightest off-chance that the two boys who met on a dating website would soak up each other's company for more than four hours, Harry felt stressed. He had already begun pacing the flat, still in the clothes he slept in. 11:00 crept up on him gently, and his teeth were not brushed, his body was not washed, his outfit wasn't ironed, let alone sorted, and his hands were bruised from both intentionally and accidentally whacking them on the walls. He was missing huge chunks of hair from his forearms, though luckily none from his head for they grew back after having cut it a few months beforehand. Harry no longer severely dealt with trichotillomania (or at least tried not to) and focused most of his energy on designing and talking and working out. Harry chatted a lot. But when his head took over his mouth, all he could do was stutter or sigh as he sulked.

It was 12:30 when the lad finally snapped out of it. He phoned Gemma and leaped into Kacey's bedroom, flicking through his wardrobe like there was no tomorrow.

"I don't know what to wear!" Harry screeched, holding up a blue shirt and then a green one to his chest. "Why have I done this to myself?"

"Have you gotten in touch with him?"

"Yeah." The purple Hawaiian button-down was a no-go. "He's gonna be late. He's picking up his sister."

"How old is she?"

"Twelve."

"Cool, cool. Let me know how it goes."

"Stay on the phone with me!"

Although he was angry and in hysterics, he couldn't talk to Gemma for that much longer for Louis (who Harry had been innocently texting throughout the day) was asking to phone him for directions. The boy was lost between a bunch of cows and a small inn and didn't know where he was or how he'd gotten there, but fortunately Harry knew the way uptown from there. He told him yes, that he most definitely could ring him, because though Harry would never, ever hold out a whole phone call with someone like Louis, the very last thing he wanted to do was let Louis remain lost and confused in a foreign place.

Harry squished his legs into Kacey's blue jeans and answered Louis' call and said: "Uh... H-Hey."

"Hey. Okay, so this place is called Rodeos. Which makes sense 'cause there's cows literally across the fuckin' street. I mean, I don't think I'm _that_ lost, I just... you know... need reassurance I'm going the right way."

Louis' voice was beautiful. Harry really thought so. He was candle wax against his voice that was warm and bright and comfy, like a little flickering flame, and all Harry did was melt.

"Yeah." His own voice sounded so stupid. "If you keep going straight, there's, uh... a bridge? You can go underneath it and take the main road - it'll take you to the city."

Louis made a weird noise of uncertainty. "I guess."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. _I guess_.

He slipped on a raggedy, floral button-down and clipped on a necklace with a buffalo pendant all whilst Louis kept the conversation going.

"I was gonna tell you something you should know about me, but I've forgot what it was," he explained, starting up his engine again. "Mustn't be that important. Anyway, what's this vegan friendly place you've informed me of? I'm kinda diggin' the idea."

"It's called Red. It's about ten minutes away. W-Well, there are other places to, uh, go to, but that's my favourite one."

"What's it got?"

"Um..." Harry's fingers fumbled with the clasp, his heart exploding clear out of his chest. "It has, uh... burgers a-and pasta and that sort of... thing."

"'Burgers and pasta and that sorta thing.'"

Finally attaching the hook to the chain, he pulled his phone away from his cheek and wiped his face. He saw coming the time he'd get made fun of, but he didn't think it so soon. Harry sighed and returned the receiver to his ear.

"Right, so I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing," Louis insisted, the car radio following immediately. "I'm pretty sure I'm going the right way now, so I'll be there in a bit. Says... Phone says 12 minutes. And, Harry?"

There was a long pause besides the distant music.

The lad gasped and grabbed his throat. "Yes?"

"I was wondering if you... Well, I dunno how to ask, so I'll just ask. You're okay with meeting me, yeah?"

The air felt thin entering his lungs.

"You, um... You seem quite nice and I don't wanna... You know, if you don't really feel good about this, we don't have to do it again. And what I wanted to tell you before: I'm not too great at relationships. Not just with dating or whatever but with friends, as well. So you don't have to feel weird about anything. And I promise I'm not some creep trying to force you to like me or some weird shit like that. I mean, I don't even like me, so why should you, you know?

"Anyway, you won't hurt my feelings if you decide you'd just rather not."

"No, I'm-- It's fine," Harry lied.

Harry was in the living room when he got the _yooo I'm here_ text.

_"Ah-h-h!"_

"Don't start."

"He's gonna hate me," Harry claimed, his fist bunching so painfully his knuckles turned white. "He'll take one look at me and go, 'Ew, you're a lot uglier in person.'"

"Shut the fuck up." Kacey fixed the necklace that he was kind enough to let his friend borrow, pulling him in close once realising he was crying. "You're awesome, kid," said Kacey, a firm grip on the younger boy and a hand in his short hair. "You beat yourself up for no reason. There's no reason to believe you're anything but cool, all right? You're a stylish, special, handsome little thing and that's what everyone sees when they look at you. Now, what _this_ guy _thinks_ of you is between you and him. But it doesn't matter what anyone thinks. You've gotta know you're cool, man, 'cause you are."

Whilst the boys discussed strategies for organising the day, Max was outside, charming and suave with his bright attitude, introducing himself to Louis, the whimsical boy who was twenty-four and talked to someone on Tinder who acted like an 8-year-old. Hopefully Max had the capability and necessary time to work in the bits about Harry that were worth mentioning: for example: his hard work and dedication to his business. He really did hope that Max would say all good things and wouldn't try to embarrass him with "Harry loves _Riding in Cars with Boys_ and still bunny-loops his shoes" because he did often say those things to people they met, but Louis was not people. Louis was more than just "people".

Faint talking came up to the front door.

"You're good, man," Kacey said, patting Harry's shoulder and going toward the door. "Did you ever show me a photo of him?" Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door and made a squeamish sound. "Ah! Hey!"

"Hey."

That was Louis, 24.

"I like your shirt," Kacey said. "Pretty rad."

"Thanks."

Harry could tell they shook hands. His hands also shook.

"Anyway, move please." Max shoved his thick body through the door, offering the walkway to their guest.

And so Louis walked in.

They stared at each other for a long time. The air was thin, again, and the flat was hot. The heat in the room was scorching - it burned Harry's stomach up like meat on a grill. Harry didn't eat meat, but, oh, did he know how it burned quickly.

Louis was just as handsome as he recalled. His eyes were severely blue, of course, like the ocean that Harry visited sometimes. Louis was also small, but it wasn't much of a surprise, for his shoulders were small and so were his hands compared to his face. And his face... Really, Harry had nothing to say about that. He had no thought. Simply Louis took his breath away, left him absent of even his thoughts because clearly Harry wouldn't have said what he thought even if he had a thought to share. He could have fit Louis in his pocket, he was so small. He was small and handsome and blue in the eyes and bold in the hair that was rather normal but not so much for someone his age. He was twenty-four whilst Harry was two years younger; 5'9" with Harry two inches taller; beautiful but Harry was two times uglier.

Suddenly he felt like a big, fat, disgusting giant as Louis took him in, pigeon feet and all.

Harry bit his lips and put on a lie of a smile. "Hi."

Louis accidentally dropped his keys, almost leaving their clatter unnoticed with how intently he'd been staring. "Oops," he said, picking his keys back up to pocket them. "Uh... Hey, it's cool to see you."

In unison, they initiated an approach that Harry immediately made awkward by going in for a hug when Louis went in to shake his hand. Thankfully Louis dismissed the tension that tried creeping up on them and wrapped his arms round Harry very nicely.

Harry pulled away first. "I like your shoes," he said, pointing at the boy's filthy lace-up Toms.

"Oh, thanks. You like the paint?"

He didn't know the shoes were painted, but he nodded regardless.

"Yeah, I actually did that yesterday. I went to this thing-- I've actually still got sand in them." Louis made direct eye contact, to which Harry would normally disagree, yet was too entranced to avoid it. "It's a stupid story, I won't bore you with it."

Harry entirely took that the wrong way. "Oh."

Louis grinned and looked at the walls. "I like your flat, anyway."

"Thanks," Max and Kacey and Harry said.

"Harry picked out, like, all the furniture." Kacey gestured to the couch. "We've recently moved in in... Think it was June. Well, I guess it wasn't that recent, but we decided not to bring in any of our own furniture 'cause they're all just horrendous."

"Mine's not," Harry argued. "My mum's got nice furniture."

"Yeah, well, we've not all got Annes for mums."

Louis found something funny in that, laughing a laugh that made Harry blush and drop his gaze to the floor.

"He bought in all the paintings and vases and that," Max added on. "See, that one by the door is a new one."

"You can stop now," Harry mumbled.

"No, no, that's all right, keep going." Their guest practically put his hand in Harry's face - his dainty, tattooed hand. "The whole bragging thing, I'm into that. Let 'em show you off, I quite fancy it."

Harry made a face of plenty of uncertainties, standing by as his flatmates went on and on flooding the room under projectile word-vomit. "Harry cooks for us," they'd say together, as though just talking about it gave them hunger. They also, unskillfully utilising discretion, mentioned the fact that Harry never left the residence unless business called for such drastic measures, which was recurrent. Obscene notions to make Harry Styles sound pleasant were a waste of time. It did not fail. No one found Harry Styles interesting or mysterious or even approachable despite Louis' poor attempt at coming off as unsurprised at the reality of Harry. He must had been lying, is what Harry thought. Louis must had wanted to leave the moment he stepped foot inside because he definitely must had sensed Harry's slimy presence. This boy who was just too wonderful but somehow perceived Harry as more than a weirdo whose legs were too long and hands too big and brows too anxious and constantly bunched up like he might start crying at any moment could not truly want anything to do with him.

But, of course, he didn't say this. Harry didn't like interacting with people he didn't know. He didn't like talking nor did he like being talked to. Louis was the exception, however. They talked for hours, as Harry suspected, with the other lad doing most of the talking and Harry squeezing in some naturally cheeky comments, hiding his crooked smile that Louis called a beautiful one whether he'd meant it or not.


	2. texts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> H&L tinder messages n texts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't call the number that is meant to be harry's, I just put in a random 203 number so please don't call it if it's activated

**Saturday**

  
I like your mii character

lol thanks it's ugly

The mouth is literally on your chin but the eyes are accurate

yep they take up half my head irl

It's cool mine do too

I can make one for u  
just gotta nick my sisters ds

Don't steal it

fine I'll ask

Fine

it's in my pics

Yeah that's horrible

***accurate

It gave me slits for eyes and my hair doesn't even spilt down the middle

so ?? my hair isn't cut into triangles  
wish it was tho

Do it

no

:///

so tell me is the pic of u w short hair recent

Yeah

wtf why'd u cut it

Was getting long

and that's a bad thing ?

No but I was growing it out for like 2 and a half years

smfh what's ur problem

Your opinion

that one stung a bit

Good

do u actually smoke

Noooo  
It was for a photo shoot

?????  
are u like a model

Yeah

FUCK

And I'm also like an astronaut and the inventor of the flux capacitor

I'd say fuck u but ur back to the future reference was brilliant

Thanks I try  
What are you doing

jammin to system of a down tbh

What's your favourite song

by them ?

Yeah

probably chop suey bc I'm lame

That song's good though

obviously

You are so mean

:)  
what's ur fav song

In general it's probably I know it's over by the smiths, but by system of a down its toxicity

ur more basic than I am

Yeah not really

ur quite funny just so u know

Thanks I didn't know that

if ur being sarcastic then bye

K bye

!!!!!!!!

 

**Sunday**

  
Hey

u have no right

Sorry I fell asleep

it was 2:30

That's late

how

What time did you go to sleep

6

LMAO

: )

How are you still living

I'm not

Oh yeah I forgot

 

**Sunday**

  
literally I'm about to flip a table

Why what's up

my stupid ugly manager is making me come in on my day off

That stinks

yep smells really bad

LOL

I'm so ready to smack her into the ground

Don't smack her she's a fragile woman

oh ur one of those

One of what

feminazi

Sorry but no

whatever u say

Wow okay

not trying to make u feel bad

I don't feel bad. It's just a stupid opinion.

don't go n get all serious I'm just being honest

 

**Wednesday**

  
u still mad

No

I've been hating myself this whole time I feel like a dick

As you should

I'm not against feminism or anything n I wasn't trying to be bitchy

Makes sense

u can cuss me out if u want

Wtf no

:(  
ur too nice I sound like a twat chatting to u

A bit but it's cute

:((((

Don't be emo

sry

Btw where do you work at

petplanet ha

Amazing!! I love animals :)

they're p cute but u can't get attached to them bc they're always getting adopted

That's sad but good :/  
What's your favourite animal there and in general

the fish  
in general it's dogs

I like cats

ofc u do

You're one to talk  
I bet you have transparent backgrounds

actually no n I bet u got facebook

So what

LOLOL  
wait have u got snapchat

Yeah but I don't like it

who are u

Harry

yeah

Yeah

how's about ig or twitter

@pineapplepop for both

cute

Follow me

omg u run a fashion acc  
these clothes are hot

Thanks :)

yw pineapple king x

 

**Thursday**

  
WHY HAVE U CUT UR HAIR

I TOLD YOU

fuck u were so hot

.........Am I ugly now?

idek what to say to that  
I'm disappointed that u would even ask

So what's the answer

the answer is I think ur attractive bc ur beautiful I can give less a fuck about ur fucking hair

Thanks :)  
@loucifer

correct

Not following back

I hope u choke

Too late

sorry mate omw to sell some domestic animal food !!!!

Text me when you're back (203)709-2341 x

course :) xx

 

**Thursday**

  
it me  
I put u in as (pineapple emoji, wet emoji, haircut emoji, mute emoji, cat emoji)

Course you have  
You're just Louis!

I quite like the exclamation mark  
were u excited to type it

Definitely

u haven't followed back

I told you I wouldn't

: )

;)

so ur 22 ?

Yep

u in uni or sum  
or do u work or what

I've finished uni and I'm a fashion stylist

how'd u manage that

Took an art course and studied business in school, now I design and work with models and stuff

but u are a model

Yikes

if u legitimately aren't a model u should consider it

Haha cx <33

muting u

Saw it coming

 

**Friday**

  
can't believe u subtweeted me

What'd I say

"you're honestly quite funny but not sure if I should meet or run away"

LMAOOOOO  
Yeah it was a bit obvious

but u really wanna meet me ?  
or would u fr run away

I want to meet you  
Just worried about how it might go

don't worry about it mate it'd be sick

:/

don't be emo

Sorry

let's kick it sometime  
the mall or sum

Can I bring a friend?

course

You should totally send me a photo holding a paper that says hi Harry so I know you're not catfishing me

ugh that's so much work

Catfish

I'll do u snapchat  
what's ur @

@harrypineapple

wtf is wrong w u

I like pineapple, is that a crime?  
(receives cute snap of louis in bed sayin hi)  
I'm getting the vibe that you never leave your bed

ur not wrong  
thx for the screenshot mate I looked rubbish

You didn't  
In case you didn't know, your eyes are lovely

People actually tell me all the time it's become meaningless but coming from u it means a lot

How insightful xx

ur precious

Not to sound horrifying but where are you from

doncaster

My mum thought you were French

already telling ur mum about me smh  
I'm flattered

Don't be

:')

I've gone to Doncaster once, it's nice

**shit

It isn't wtf

where are u at then

Cheshire

yeah that really isn't very far  
it'd be brill to go there I never go anywhere  
well oddly enough I've been to france

I've been to France as well :)

no u haven't

You're right I forgot

ur too funny mate

I've made up my mind and I want to meet you. Maybe this weekend?

idk :/

What's up

nothin I just wanted to give u a hard time x

Don't talk to me

fine I'm headin for bed anyway

Night Louis x

cya pineapple boy xx

 

 **Saturday**  
I've now got u down as whineapple (sun w cloud emoji)

That's so weird, I've got you as Catfish (sun emoji)

fair

I'm going to a photo shoot today so if I don't respond that's why

r u modeling

Not this time  
Just dressing the models

ok so a perk to ur job is to see hot models naked n mine is to feed parakeets

Parakeets are cute though

yeah whatever

 

**Saturday**

  
I actually have modeled today

U TOLD ME U WOULDNT

I didn't think I was going to but they said my hair was nice and that I've got "the look" ://  
Since it was my design they figured it would suit me perfectly

pic or it's not real

Okay but you can't send these to anyone, I don't want to get in trouble

DO U ALWAYS HAVE TO DO SMOKING PHOTOS THE SMOKE IS ACTUALLY COMING OUT OF UR MOUTH

I didn't even inhale it and I could still taste the awful

wait u designed that??? that's fucking sick how do u do that

I've always been into that kind of thing, it comes naturally I guess :/ and thanks!!

it's ok x  
have u really got that tattoo on ur neck

No it was put on

but u have got tattoos tho

Yep

sorry I keep asking for photos n I swear I'm not wanking at them I just need to see ur modeling photos bc ur so cute tbh  
(receives 2 super cute model pics)  
spoke too soon  
ur like the most gorgeous guy

No don't say that

it's true no need to be modest

You've got tattoos yeah?

jfc mine look lame compared to urs

Right I'm sure they're lamer than a massive moth on your stomach

I thought it was a butterfly

Everyone thinks that

it's literally a butterfly open ur eyes

I'll open them when you send a photo

cool that was slick so I guess I'll oblige but don't get ur hopes up  
(sends torso+arm pic!!!!!!)  
it's also just past st. andrew's day so ignore my so-so bits I swear I'm in shape usually

I just remembered how your tinder profile said "hmu if you're into ugly people" and it upsets me because you're far from that  
Your body, looks and personality are wonderful

wonderful  
haven't heard that one before  
that's sweet of u

You're welcome x

when u wanna meet up

I'm really not sure..... This weekend is okay

I'm free tmrw !!!! round 12:30 ?  
I'm sure neither of us wanna drive an hour so are u up for meeting somewhere in the middle ?

We could go to Peak District

fuck that there's nothing out there

That's literally the only thing between us

true  
I'll just go to see u in cheshire

Are you sure?

yeah u have obviously already been to doncaster n I've never been to cheshire so I'm looking forward to visiting u there  
wait but only on one condition

What's that?

we drive round in ur car so I don't have to die trying to revive mine  
plus it's kinda shit n I don't want u to experience it

LOL

what would we even do

Not sure ://

we obviously can't go to the cinema bc that's a major second date sorta thing n I wanna get to know u  
can't quite do that when no ones talking

True

I guess it doesn't much matter as long as we eat something

There's a few good places near me I can show you  
One of them is vegan friendly

UMMMMM ??  
WTF

:(

ugggghh that shit is fuckin putrid

You're mean

://  
u got me looking like a dick again  
if I try ur vegan stuff it doesn't mean I'll like it

So you'll try it????

maybe

Say yes

no

Goodbye

NOOOOO  
OK OMFG

YES !!!!!

ur so precious

B)))

nvm

Fine

text me ur address

(random fucking address)

if I show up two hours late or like half dead it means I'm 110% dedicated to seeing u n getting lost didn't stop me

Romance at its finest

that's what I'm sayin

Are you allergic to cats btw?

no but I am allergic to bees n peanuts

I don't like either of those things

oh good I totally thought u were gonna do a beehive in order to poison me

I was actually gonna do you a pb&j but you were close

FUCK  
wellllll it was lovely chatting to u today but I don't wanna fall asleep at the wheel tmrw :)

Goodnight, see you soon. X

night whineapple xx

 

**Sunday**

  
hey just checking in about our plans

No good morning??

morning !!!! (send pineapple emoji)

Morning :)  
Plans are great

I need to get my sister from her friends house so I might be somewhat late :/

It's cool no worries

btw what's ur fav drink

Coconut flavour

that's it  
not even a name it's just coconut flavour

Yeah :)

lol wtf  
whatever I got u

Don't buy that wtf

um idk about u but my mum taught me to never go to someone's home wo something to offer

Well you don't have to do that with me

I want to  
u can give me something too ;))))

Gross

not like that shut up

You said it not me

ummmm ok but u thought it  
pervert

Maybe  
Wait  
Are you driving?

yeah

GET OFF THE PHONE

ur not gonna tell on me r u

YES

;))

Stop texting, you'll hit someone.

ok my sister is typing for me now

I'm talking to your sister?

I guess  
she's reading your texts to me

://

hi :)

Hi  
I'm Harry

I'm Daisy

How old are you

12 wbu

22

how come you're talking to Louis he's weird

lol not too weird

"bloody hell stop talking about me!!!!!!" -Lou  
he wants to know how you're doing

I'm good thanks :) how are you two

we're good  
he'll be there in an hour or so and he's sorry he's so late

It's okay, I'm working anyway

what are you working on?  
another design?

Yes but tell him it's a secret

friends make secrets, secrets don't make friends

I don't make either ;P

he frowned :(  
"he's too nice to keep secrets"

I can but choose not to

why

Waste of time and it's very rude

true  
got my phone back omw !!!!!

Oh  
Tell Daisy I said bye then

I shouted it at her as she entered the house now our neighbour is staring

Drive away  
Quickly

MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE

SHHH

 

**Sunday**

  
lost :///

LMAO

wtf there's cows down here

Wth where are you

idfk  
there's an inn to my left

What's it called

idk but it's ugly n brown

Ok I know where you are

can I ring u

Yeah

yooo im here


End file.
